Sunday, May 25, 2014

Liberating Shechem

Everyone has a story and living in Israel I feel as
if I am surrounded by human history books. The gentleman in front of me in the
bank, the woman sitting next to me on the bus, the man leading the prayers in
the synagogue, and the lady processing my forms at the health clinic can most
likely tell me the most spectacular tales. A prime example is Rabbi Yitzhak
Spatz, a mild-mannered teacher who has taught several of my children, and
continues to be a valued member of our community giving Torah lectures, leading
prayers, and helping to make sure the synagogue runs smoothly. Rav Spatz has
many tales to tell and one of the most interesting is how he helped liberate Shechem during the Six Day War.

In the middle of May 1967 Yitzhak Spatz was a young
man in his mid-twenties. At that time he was living in Kibbutz Tirat Zvi where
he had grown up. One Friday night, after
the Shabbat meal, a bus drove through the gates of the shomer Shabbat kibbutz.
Obviously it was a military bus, no other bus would have entered, and the
officer on board held written, emergency orders for a number of the young men
from his unit. More buses followed in its wake and by the time the bus came for
those in the Tank Unit, which Yitzhak was part of, he was ready.

The bus made numerous stops all night long at the
many settlements of Beit Shean and Jezreel Valleys. With each stop two or three
reserve soldiers boarded the bus and they slowly made their way to the base
near Haifa. It took almost eight hours and was already dawn when they arrived.
Yitzhak had had plenty of time to realize war was imminent and understand he
was travelling on Shabbat in order to save lives.

From the base near Haifa he and his brigade were
sent to another base near Safed. There they sat for three weeks training to
attack The Golan Heights. Under Syrian control and overlooking the Huleh Valley
in northern Israel, it was the source for countless sniper attacks. Those
attacks had been endangering the lives of Israeli civilians for the past two
decades. All the soldiers understood that had to end.

Finally the time for action arrived. It was the
middle of the night when they were ordered to get into their tanks and go. Go
where? They assumed to the Golan Heights but soon realized they were travelling
south instead of east. No one knew what their goal was. They were forbidden to
open their walkie-talkies, have any lights, and to speak above the quietist of whispers.

It was light when they stopped in an open field near
the hospital in Afula. They were supposed to have a two-hour rest but they had
not been there long when they heard and then saw two big planes flying nearby.
Those planes were not marked, they obviously weren’t Israeli, and the soldiers
had no idea to whom they belonged. Suddenly, Israeli combat planes materialized
and the next thing the soldiers knew the big planes exploded. Later, they
learned that the two planes were Iraqi, full of explosives, and on their way to
attack Ramat Dov, the military airport near Haifa. At that time, though, all they
knew was that the war had begun.

Everyone was full of excitement as they boarded
their tanks. There was just as much excitement in Afula when the unit entered
the town. Women, children, and old men threw candies and bags of goodies into their
tanks. Some even managed to ask the soldiers for their names and their families’
phone numbers. At a time when cell phones were non-existent and many homes
didn’t even have a private phone this was a true act of caring. Somehow the
kind citizens of Afula would get word to the soldiers’ families that they were
alive and well.

Those soldiers rode out of Afula heading south and
ten kilometers away they crossed the Green Line. That green line was not a
stripe of green paint on the ground. Rather, it was a series of cement poles
two hundred meters apart that marked the border between Israel and Jordanian
occupied territory. Growing up some twenty kilometers from The Green Line
Yitzhak had been curious about the other side. There was no fence and he could
have easily slipped between the poles but it was something he would have never
dared to have done. As he and the others crossed the boundary on that day in
June they felt they were entering a new frontier.

While they advanced they drove through little
villages devoid of people. The soldiers found the Arab residents
cowering in the caves that spotted the hills. They came slowly out of
hiding with their hands held high in surrender, their faces full of fear,
certain that they would be shot on sight. They didn’t understand that an
Israeli soldier didn’t dream of touching a civilian.

The tanks continued to the northern Shomron that
afternoon and kept moving south. Suddenly there was a command to stop. The
scout had discovered a Jordanian Tank Corp hidden between the olive trees in
wait for them just a few kilometers away. There was a shallow valley between
the two sides and the Jordanians had not spotted the Israelis. The officer
decided they would wait until dark to attack. Taking a lesson from Gideon (see
Judges, chapter 7, verses16-25) the commanding officer divided the tanks into
three groups. One attacked from the right, another from the left, and the third
blocked the way from any Arab rescue units. Behind them the Artillery Corp sent
flares so the Israeli soldiers could see the Jordanians. What they saw was
astounding. The Jordanian soldiers were lounging outside their tanks and when
the shooting began they fled on foot to the hills. In the morning Israel
commandeered some thirty tanks in excellent condition. Another seventy or so
were able to be repaired. Those tanks were high-quality Patton tanks that
America had sold to Jordan.

It had been an easy battle and they were able to
keep going south. They didn’t know to where until they arrived at the eastern
entrance of Shechem. They passed a refugee camp and then Joseph’s Tomb, but
they paid no attention. The Arabs of Shechem, thinking they were Iraqi
soldiers, greeted them with applause and smiles, reminiscent of the Jews of
Afula. It wasn’t until the jeep at the rear with its Israeli flag rolled into
view that they understood their mistake. Then they fled into their houses.
There were a few shots fired here and there but it was a painless entrance. The
tanks didn’t stop until they reached the police station in the center of town.

It was at that moment Rav Spatz had a chance to
absorb what was happening. Here he was in Shechem! Shechem, that Jacob bought.
Shechem, where Dina was raped. Shechem, where Joseph searched for his brothers.
Shechem, where the twelve tribes gathered to hear the blessings and the curses.
He had returned to the Land of our Fathers. He felt as if he was flying in the
air with all of our history in front of his eyes. Others in his unit felt the
same but there was little time for more reflection. There was still a war to
fight.

Another unit surrounded Shechem from the west and
the mayor was found. He was given a choice. He could sign a surrender giving
over the city and all the weapons or he could have war. He chose surrender. The
Shomron had returned to Jewish hands!

Then the soldiers learned that Jerusalem was
reunited! The next day Gush Etzion, Hevron, and Hevron Hills were liberated!
Yitzhak and his unit were sent northwest and were among those to chase the
Syrians out of the Golan Heights. The war was over.

It had been an incredibly quick war. Rav Spatz stresses
that the battles were fast and relatively light. There were losses, twelve men out
of three thousand from his unit were killed. Every life is an entire world but
there were far less killed than what was expected. He believes The Almighty was
there not with, but rather in front, of him and the other soldiers. He believes
that HaShem put fear into the hearts of the enemy and He is the One who won the
war.

Aim of Blog

Emunah, faith in God, does not mean believing only good things will happen; it means believing that whatever God does is for the best. I wrote these words at a time when drive-by shootings and suicide bombers had become almost weekly, if not daily, tragedies. Now, more than ten years later, the words are no less true. Whatever HaShem does is for the best. It is my hope to post articles, advice, and homey stories everyweekwhich will reinforce this fact. And now, a special thanks to:

Batya Medad, my neighbor and experienced blogger. Without her I would never have been able to set up

About Me

Born in Wichita, Kansas, I became a Baalat Teshuva, newly religious, in Phoenix, Arizona while attending ASU. After twelve years of marriage my husband and I made Aliyah with five children and settled in Shilo in the heart of Israel. Two more children joined the family as have daughters-in-law, sons-in-law, and grandchildren, Baruch HaShem. My favorite past times are learning, sewing, hiking, reading, cooking, baking, enjoying my family and friends, and, of course, writing. My first novel, Sondra’s Search, was published in 2007 and I am working on the sequel.